bided until he had concluded his task and read
through the script, making a change here and there. Then all at once
some confused sense of realization of his new purpose came to her. She
stood up and took a step forward and laid one apprehensive hand upon the
paper as though to stay him.

"Judge Priest," she said, "what have you written down here? And what do
you mean to do with what you have written?"

"Whut I have written here is a short statement--a memorandum, really, of
whut you have been tellin' me, ma'am," he explained. "I'll have it
written out more fully in the form of an affidavit, and then to-morrow I
want you to sign it either here or at my office in the presence of
witnesses."

"But is it necessary?" she demurred. "I'm ignorant of the law, and you
spoke just now of my failure to adopt Ellie by law. But if at this late
date I must do it, can't it be done privately, in secret, so that
neither Ellie nor anyone else will ever know?"

"Ellie will have to know, I reckin," he stated grimly, "and other folks
will know too. But this here paper has nothin' to do with any sech
proceedin' ez you imagine. It's too late now fur you legally to adopt
Mrs. Dallam Wybrant, even though any person should suggest sech a thing,
and I, fur my part, don't see how any right-thinkin' person could or
would do so. She's a free agent, of full age, and she's a married woman.
No, ma'am, she has no legal claim on you and to my way of thinkin' she
has no moral claim on you neither. She's not your child, a fact which
I'm shore kin mighty easy be proved ef anyone should feel inclined to
doubt your word. She ain't your legal heir. She ain't got a leg--excuse
me, ma'am--she ain't got a prop to stand on. I thought Ellie had us
licked. Instid it would seem that we've got Ellie licked."

He broke off, checked in his exultant flight by the look upon her face.
Her fingers turned inward, the blunted nails scratching at the sheet of
paper as though she would tear it from him.

"No, no, no!" she cried. "I won't do that! I can't do that! You mustn't
ask me to do that, judge!"

"But, ma'am, don't you git my meanin' yit? Don't you realize that not a
penny of this eight thousand dollars belongs to Mrs. Dallam Wybrant?
That she has no claim upon any part of it? That it's all yours and that
you're goin' to have it all for yourself--every last red cent of
it--jest ez soon ez the proof kin be filed and the order made by me in
court?"

"I'm not think